


Written on Skin

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Female Friendship, Female Relationships, Historical, Infertility, Runes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1612304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rowena is in a rather desperate situation and turns to Helga for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Written on Skin

**Title:** Written on Skin  
 **Author:** Nightfalltwen  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Pairing(s):** Rowena Ravenclaw/Helga Hufflepuff  
 **Summary:** Rowena is in a rather desperate situation and turns to Helga for help.  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Word Count:** 2790  
 **Author's Notes:** Alas, I am not fluent in Norse, Anglo-Saxon, Norman or even Old English, so this story had to be written in the modern tongue. Written for the 2014 femmefest on livejournal. I've never attempted writing the Founders before and I hope I've done them justice. Special thank you to my betas. Whatever historical errors I've made with the Picts are my own. The founders learning their craft in Rome (hence why Latin is the main language of magic) is entirely of my own imagination.

*~*~*~*

"Are you sure this will work, Helga?" Rowena asked uneasily, eying the bowls in front of her. "It _is_ Pictish lore. We don't even know if the Picts actually have real magic."

Helga added another small spoonful of the powdered woad to the dish of linseed oil, stirring it gently. "You really do need to start opening your clever mind up to the idea that magic is everywhere and not just for the educated." She looked over at her friend, reaching out with lightly-blued fingers to brush Rowena's cheek. "Despite what they say in Rome, Latin is not the measure of magical worth. The sooner we all realise that, the more likely our school will become prosperous beyond its first year. The magic is sound."

Rowena opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again and sighed, sitting heavily on Helga's bed. Her slippered feet dragged lightly over the stone floor. Helga knew that Rowena was anxious and somewhat desperate and it was causing her to lose focus. Married for three years, she'd already rocked the boat by not assuming her husband's name. He'd endured it because of her beauty, but no fruit had blossomed from the match. There was still no pitter-patter of tiny feet to one day scamper through the halls of Hogwarts.

So she'd come to Helga.

_You must know of some plant, some spell that would help. My books and scrolls give me no solution._

Rowena's husband was not the only one who endured things because of the young Ravenclaw's beauty. So Helga had easily acquiesced to the request.

"It just... It doesn't even _look_ like a magical potion."

"Because it's not a potion," said Helga, setting aside the bowl and brushing her hands on her skirt. "It's blue paint."

She walked over to the window and closed the shutter before pulling heavy drapes to block out the light. She picked up her wand from the table and carefully lit all the candles in the room, a soft glow filling the space around them. Rowena's brow had furrowed in confusion and Helga could see the thoughts turning around in her friends head to try and make sense of what she'd just said. Sometimes, just sometimes, she did like getting the upper hand over Rowena who was always so clever when it came to magic.

"When you wrote me of your problems," Helga said, walking over to where Rowena sat, flicking her wand toward the table and summoning a bit of parchment. "You had to know that I would seek assistance from the locals. There was this old woman who told me about the runes she would paint on young women to help them conceive. Her daughter showed me what needed to be done."

"Runes? Really, Helga. I hardly think that holds any weight. You know that they told us in Rome that magic was all in the language we speak. Every established scholar said as much in each of our classes."

Helga rolled her eyes and set down her wand, unfolding the parchment. On it were all the runes that she needed and instructions on what else was required. While some of it seemed very tame, other parts brought a flush to Helga's cheeks. The woman in the village had been most helpful and very happy to share her knowledge to someone beyond just her own daughter. Those who said the Picts were bloodthirsty and savage just didn't take the time to really learn what they were about. 

Helga thought it a shame. She'd learnt so much from both of them.

"You asked for my help, Rowena." Helga gave her friend a soft smile. "You've trusted me in the past when you couldn't find the solution to a problem." She reached up and lightly plucked the diadem from Rowena's hair, setting it on the small table by the bed, finding it ever so amusing that she would deign to wear such an expensive item on a day trip. "I mean you nothing but joy."

"I thought it would be different," Rowena said softly, wringing her hands. "My marriage. My husband. Children. It was all supposed to be different."

Helga waited patiently as her friend worked through her concerns. In the years that she'd known and loved Rowena for her intelligence, she knew that the other woman needed to settle her thoughts on her own before launching into an endeavor. She was so unlike Godric and Salazar in that respect. And so unlike herself. But that was what made Rowena special and what made this woman worth going out on a limb for.

Finally she took a deep breath and stood up. "I'm ready. What do I need to do?"

Helga swallowed, a sudden dry lump in her throat, placing the parchment on the bed and picking up the bowl of blue, swirling a small brush around the liquid. "You'll need to undress," she said, her voice sounding a little strained. Stopping Rowena before there was a protest, she held up the paint. "The runes are painted on skin in specific places."

As she undressed, Rowena asked about the Pict woman and the runes. Helga had to smile because she knew that her friend's natural thirst for learning would eventually make itself known. She told Rowena of the village and the complicated ins and outs of the runes, explaining that a lot of the magic that the Picts practiced was symbolic and that each rune had a power that was unique to itself, but a combination of runes would create something new.

It was the voiceless magic that all their teachers in Rome had said never existed.

Soon Helga realised that she was still talking and Rowena was standing there, naked, listening to every word.

"In any case, she promised this would work."

Helga dipped the small brush into the paint and stepped closer to Rowena. There was a moment of hesitation. A question asked without words as she held up the brush and waited for her friend to agree. And when the nod came, Helga felt a slight rush of nervousness in her belly. All the other women in the village had sworn by this magic. Anyone who'd had any difficulty over the years agreed that it had never failed them.

There were enough children running around the village to convince her that it was true.

"After I'm done, you'll need to go to your husband." Helga slid the brush down Rowena's stomach, leaving a blue trail in its wake.

"Plant his seed in the now fertile garden, I imagine?" Rowena gave a little shiver as Helga drew another mark near her hip.

Helga paused and a spot of blue dripped from the end of the brush, nearly missing the bowl. "Oh it's more than that. For it to work, to… activate as it were. Your pleasure must come first."

Surprisingly, Rowena burst out laughing. Her breasts bounced with it and caused the brush to leave a wide streak of blue across one nipple. Helga let out a curse and set down the bowl, going straight for the pitcher of water near the bed. She grabbed a cloth and wet it, bringing it back to Rowena, who was trying to stifle her laughter with her hand. Helga waited one moment but when it looked like her friend was not going to help, she reached out and dragged the cloth across the blue smear, wiping it away.

"If you don't want to try this," she said tersely. "I can put it away and stop being made the fool."

That stopped the giggles. Rowena placed her hand over Helga's. "It's not that, my dear Helga. It's that… Our coupling has never… while it has been satisfactory, I don't imagine that my pleasure is ever a factor. I suspect I am not terribly good at it. It is all rather physical and you must remember how bad I was physical exertion while we were in Rome."

Helga left the comment at that and at Rowena's gesturing she resumed marking her friend's skin with intricate blue runes. They clustered over her hip and a few were marked along the flat, pale space below her navel but just above the dark hairs between her thighs. Helga's hands shook a little as she went along and twice she had to stop and make sure the marks were correct and not too wobbly. 

After a long moment of silence between them, she looked up at Rowena. "Have you not shown him the things that please you?" When she received nothing but a blank look from her friend, her eyebrows rose. "Oh! Oh Rowena, my word, has no one showed _you_?"

Rowena tossed up her hands and shook her head. "Oh Helga, this is ridiculous. I don't believe in the teachings of the Picts which is nothing against you, my friend, but it's such nonsense to think that a few blue marks and my own pleasurable experience has any bearing on my ability or lack thereof to bear children. And I don't think that you should be indul--"

Helga cut off the string of words, pressing her mouth against Rowena's. The silence that now filled the room almost echoed with the last few things that had been spoken. Soon that silence was filled with the sound of heartbeats and breathing and the soft sound of lips against lips. Helga had never considered kissing Rowena before. Rather, she'd _thought_ of it, of course. She thought of it many times and in many different situations, often during those long nights of study in Rome. She'd never considered acting on it. 

Such things were taboo, were they not?

Slowly she drew back, flushing crimson and dropped her hand away from the back of Rowena's neck where her fingers had become tangled in the dark curls.

"I could show you these things," Helga heard herself say, wondering where the courage to speak was coming from. She dared not meet Rowena's eyes and tried not to think about how her friend stood naked in front of her. Courage seemed to only extend to the words tumbling from her lips. "I meant what I said. I mean you nothing but joy."

Behind the words, Helga was terrified. Rowena had said nothing in response to the kiss and Helga couldn't stand the idea that she had ruined their friendship. Her eyes pinched shut and she drew in a deep breath, waiting to be asked to leave. She could hear the steady inhale and exhale of Rowena's breath and when that single, cool fingertip touched her chin, Helga jumped slightly. Her eyes flew open as her chin was raised.

A familiar spark was in Rowena's eyes, that familiar thirst that had been ever present during their lessons. "Show me."

That was it. That was all it took. Helga's hand slipped back around Rowena's neck and she pulled the other woman toward her, kissing her again. Dimly Helga remembered thinking that Rowena needed no such lessons in the art of kissing. It was soft and warm, occasionally with a bit of an edge as teeth grazed lips and it set Helga's pulse to racing.

"Sit," she gasped softly, nudging her friend back toward the bed. 

Rowena did as instructed. As she sat, she kept hold of Helga and tugged her down as well, their mouths meeting once more in a kiss that left both women breathless. And when Helga felt the ties of her own gown being loosened, she made no move to stop the other woman. Fabric was pushed away and the cool air caused gooseflesh to rise up briefly. 

Helga shivered. She blamed it on the cold. She knew it was the anticipation.

She didn't warn Rowena when she dropped to her knees. She didn't explain what was happening when she pushed apart the other woman's thighs. She didn't talk. Helga was better at showing than she was at lectures. It was why she was going to instruct the practical magic of plants and herbs. She could show how things were done so much better.

And she planned to show Rowena so much.

Helga's lips touched the soft skin just above the inside of Rowena's knee, brushing higher as she kissed her way along the expanse of her inner thigh. A shudder seemed to go through the other woman and quite suddenly Helga realised that Rowena's fingers had threaded themselves through the blond strands at the back of her head, urging her higher. A smile appeared and she pressed her mouth against a spot on Rowena's hip. 

Instinct was always a better instructor than anything.

Taking her cue from the steady pressure on the back of her head and the fingers flexing through her hair, Helga pressed her mouth against the slick folds between Rowena's legs, her tongue darting out and flicking across the flesh until it found the little nub of flesh that she'd learned long ago was the center of everything. Above her, Rowena sucked in a gasp which slowly changed to a whimpering moan.

"I didn't…" she rolled her hips and Helga moved with her, keeping her lips against her, pressing her tongue harder. Rowena's fingers tightened suddenly, fisting in Helga's hair. "I didn't know…"

The words died as Helga traced a finger across the folds before sliding into the writhing woman on the bed. She twisted it lightly and at the soft cry that tumbled from Rowena's lips, a second finger joined the first, slowly pumping in and out. Helga mimicked every movement the Pictish woman's daughter had done, eliciting the same sounds and the same arched back that had been elicited from her when she'd sought out aid from the village.

"Oh my…" Rowena's hand untangled itself from Helga's hair and she could vaguely see the other woman scrabbling for the coverlet, bunching it in her hands. The flushed skin and the blue marks and the way Rowena seemed to be losing control of herself was almost too much for Helga.

Sliding her free hand down between her own legs, she sought out the same spot and began to rub. It didn't take long to set her heart to pounding and her knees to shaking. And when Rowena's hips started to buck, her body pulsing and fluttering against Helga's lips and those two fingers, it tipped the scales. A soft moan caught in the back of Helga's throat and her whole body shuddered right along with the other woman.

Drawing in a deep breath, she looked up. 

Each blue rune started to fade down into Rowena's skin. As it was meant to.

"It's done," she said quietly.

At first, Rowena said nothing. All Helga could hear was the soft gasping breaths and the shift of skin against cloth as she shifted around.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Helga looked up to see Rowena sitting, braced against her elbows, the flush of climax still colouring her pale skin. "Perhaps… we ought to be certain?"

Helga was confused for a long moment, but suddenly smiled, glancing toward the window. There were still many hours left before Rowena needed to return home. "Yes," she said. "Perhaps we should."

*~*~*~*

"The study of Ancient Runes was one of the five core classes that Hogwarts offered during the first few years of operation." Professor Babbling stood at the front of the class, wand dictating to a piece of chalk as it wrote across the blackboard. "This is an important thing to note as Charms, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration were considered, by Rome, to be the only subjects of import."

Hermione raised her hand, stretching her fingers to the ceiling. "It was Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw who championed for Ancient Runes to be included, wasn't it, professor? Because of the tribes of Picts who lived near the castle?"

The professor turned and nodded. She picked up her text and had the class turn to the introductory chapter. "The two founders never gave their reason for wanting Ancient Runes to be included but that it was as valid a magic as that which was taught to them. It is said that because Helga spent so much time with the Picts, especially the tribe that lived in the area where Hogsmeade was built, she learned that magic could come from many sources. Scholars believe that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's friendship had an enormous influence on the choice to include this subject."

Babbling paused and smiled. "And I am glad for it. Runic magic is intricate and strong. You'll learn how to weave spells more easily by taking this class. Now. Please turn to page eleven. We'll learn more of Norse roots before we delve into the evolution of the Pictish runes."


End file.
